tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-58959988285561251682023-11-16T06:08:49.137-08:00THE CONSTANT HOLIDAYTravel, History, Adventure and Food... All In A Carry-On Bag.Trace Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139750882768740451noreply@blogger.comBlogger76125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5895998828556125168.post-71836334289114587942013-06-05T15:49:00.000-07:002013-06-05T15:49:21.867-07:00Almost famousHey there! I know we've relocated, and I would love for you to come see me at my new blog www.<a href="http://theconstantholiday.com/">theconstantholiday.com</a>, but for anyone who missed the relocation notice, I'm just popping in to share a bit of excitement.<br />
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We're on The Kitchn!</div>
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I'm putting this identical post on all my blogs, because it's very exciting, so bear with me if you are an amazing person who reads ALL of my brain ramblings. I do apologize. </div>
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But - I'm published! With the lovely and talented <a data-mce-href="http://amyherr.com/" href="http://amyherr.com/" style="color: #1b8be0; font-style: inherit; line-height: 1.7; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank" title="amy">Amy Herr</a>, who is a food photographer in Atlanta and a good friend of mine, and the person who took the photo above. We got accepted as contributors to the blog "<a data-mce-href="http://www.thekitchn.com/" href="http://www.thekitchn.com/" style="color: #1b8be0; font-style: inherit; line-height: 1.7; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank" title="kitchn">The Kitchn</a>", for their Kitchen Tour column, and our first tour went up on the site yesterday. Amy took all the photos and I wrote the text, and you can see it <a data-mce-href="http://www.thekitchn.com/erins-family-friendly-kitchen-kitchen-tour-190264" href="http://www.thekitchn.com/erins-family-friendly-kitchen-kitchen-tour-190264" style="color: #1b8be0; font-style: inherit; line-height: 1.7; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank" title="tour">here</a>. </div>
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<br />Trace Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139750882768740451noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5895998828556125168.post-45320997479231560622013-05-27T19:04:00.005-07:002013-05-27T19:04:39.283-07:00Relocated!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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We are moving! I have FINALLY gotten all my stories and photos from the old blog migrated here to <a href="http://www.constantholiday.com/" rel="nofollow" style="color: black; line-height: inherit;">http://www.constantholiday.com</a>. We’ve had a great run there and will leave the old blog up for as long as the kind folk at blogspot allow us.</div>
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Above, to keep with our relocation theme, is a sunset from 30 thousand feet. I spend aboout eleventy thousand hours in airplanes a year (okay, that’s an exaggeration) but I never tire of watching sunsets and sunrises from the aerial perspective. It’s the closest I’ll ever come to space travel, and I watch the changing light over the textured clouds, so similar to the changing light at the edge of the sea. It’s the space where two worlds come together – not to collide, but to overlap and create something new.</div>
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Which is what we’re hoping to do at the new location. Welcome.</div>
<br />Trace Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139750882768740451noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5895998828556125168.post-84469642613016631202013-02-21T13:01:00.000-08:002013-02-21T13:01:13.662-08:00Photobombed<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I love this picture, which is actually a still snagged from a video shot with a GoPro camera that I bought just before I went to the Keys last September. I look like I'm photobombing my own photo! I'm underwater (hence the snorkel mask) and if you're at all familiar with the GoPro family, you'll know that you have to look at the *front* of the camera in order to turn it on, then rotate it toward what you actually want to shoot - which in this case were some cool fish around a dock near the apartment I was staying in. All over the world there are GoPro vids that start with the same bemused "is it on yet?" expression on the users' faces.<br />
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This trip - last September, so you can see I'm a little behind - was a four-day lightning strike just after Labor Day weekend. I spent the four days tooling around the middle Keys in possession of my very favorite object: a rental car. Really, you cannot beat the feeling of reliability and utter abandon that you get with a vehicle that only has two thousand miles on it and you get hand off to someone else at the end of the week. It's like a short term romance on wheels - all enjoyment, no regrets, and someone else has to rotate the tires.<br />
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When I wasn't in my automotive fling, I was in or on the water, since the Keys - especially the Middle Keys, including Marathon, where I stayed - are all about the ocean. Talk about being a stone's throw from the beach - I was in a place where even I was capable of jogging from the west coast (the Gulf of Mexico) to the east coast (the Atlantic side). At it's broadest point the island I was on was all of 150 feet across, surmounted by an endless bowl of blue sky, and fringed with palm trees - the Tahiti effect, without the inconvenient airfare issues (but with plenty of sarongs, thanks to the lovely people who rented me the apartment). And with a dock reaching out into the silvery sea right off the edge of the property, and a kayak available, I did a fairly good mermaid impersonation for most of my stay.<br />
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A mermaid with a camera. Is this thing turned on yet?<br />
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<br />Trace Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139750882768740451noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5895998828556125168.post-47248263797406449652012-06-20T09:04:00.004-07:002012-06-20T09:04:56.222-07:00Photo of the Week - The Easy Way Out<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This week's photo - again, embarrassingly, shot with my cell phone - is from a project I am working on that is sort of an experiment in spontaneous image-making. Twice a day - at 8.45 and at 2.15 - my phone alarm buzzes, and I'm supposed to take a picture within five minutes of something interesting around me. Depending on the day, this is either difficult because I'm sitting at my same desk for the eleventh day in a row, or easy because I'm out on a shoot and there's all kinds of stuff around. I seem to be getting a lot of photos of my cat, since he's usually draped over the nearest surface.<br />
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These were some florist-shop daisies, the kind that have their heads grown so heavy that they come with a little plastic green sleeve around their necks to hold them up during shipping, so that they don't nod like a loaded sunflower. I like the way this one is sort of peeking into the sun, but staying mostly in the shade - a prudent course in the southern summer, no matter what your species, as I'm doing it myself - and the direct sun is giving the bottom petals an almost molten glow.<br />
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I called this post "The easy way out" because when I pulled up to do it, I really didn't have any idea what to write about today, and I realized how much I use the photographs I post as a starting point for my writing. Even though my blog is very photography oriented, I primarily consider myself a writer, not an image-maker - but someone who's very focused on visual stimuli. I would never do a purely photography-based blog, but I can't imagine doing one that is strictly text, either. I need the photos for inspiration - to let the writing genie out of the bottle. Nothing earthshaking in that realization, just something I was pondering today :)Trace Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139750882768740451noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5895998828556125168.post-7647768737843189902012-05-08T12:14:00.000-07:002012-05-08T12:14:11.942-07:00Photo of the Week: Savannah's Talmadge Bridge.<br />
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This bridge went up a few years ago, and a lot - A LOT - of people hated it, because they felt it didn't match Savannah's older, antebellum style. I've always liked it though - it seems spidery and ethereal, and glitters in the sun like something made of a delicate, precious metal (Elven technology?) rather than boring old iron and steel. I suspect that years from now, once it's had some time to settle, people will feel about it the way they feel about I.M. Pei's Pyramid at the Louve - a shocking contrast to the setting, yes, but beautiful in it's own right, and somehow fitting for the space.<br />
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That being said, this bridge is almost impossible to photograph well - the area around it is kind of cluttered and there's no good sightlines, like you see in some of the famous night photos of bridges in New York or San Franciso - and I am really stoked (do people still say stoked? Am I a complete dork here?) that I got such a good shot, by taking an excursion boat out to the middle of the river. Thinking outside the box, you see. Or the boat. Whatever.<br />
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Finally, the definitive photo of the Talmadge Bridge! Let the haters hate. I like it.Trace Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139750882768740451noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5895998828556125168.post-1010198576362890042012-05-02T11:19:00.000-07:002012-05-02T11:19:31.708-07:00Photo of the Week: Misty<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Misty morning in the woods beyond our house, taken a few weeks ago when the weather turned on itself and gave us a last few cool days before the true heat of the southern summer lays in. Shot, appallingly, with my cell phone. C'est la vie.Trace Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139750882768740451noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5895998828556125168.post-43646800340714696082011-02-22T07:00:00.000-08:002011-02-22T07:00:18.965-08:00Silouetted<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghjZhAgd_0HoYZ-vJIUZUE1FZnzT_f-pxe6j2Cmggn7hjoBwfSTUjk2bEIy1DVVEcAbdJ4k5a7tHEn5SImDDYgkRmqV6wK_TYxriZMtxiO05gzMyCZdoD8OBqldjt53Vl5k8H26nPj4Cs/s1600/silouette.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghjZhAgd_0HoYZ-vJIUZUE1FZnzT_f-pxe6j2Cmggn7hjoBwfSTUjk2bEIy1DVVEcAbdJ4k5a7tHEn5SImDDYgkRmqV6wK_TYxriZMtxiO05gzMyCZdoD8OBqldjt53Vl5k8H26nPj4Cs/s320/silouette.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>I pulled this photo this morning to do this entry, because I love the way the statue is so crisp against the soft, bright stone of the building behind it. I didn't realize until I went to re-size it that there is a huge piece of netting on the stone wall at the corner where they are repairing the stonework. Arrgh.<br />
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Something made me keep it in though - it sort of crystalizes my mood today. I'm in the middle of moving, and everytime I look up from one of my (many) boxes, I find something else that needs doing/fixing/attending to. There's a lot of stuff we missed on our first look around, and now we need to make some adjustments so the house can be exactly what we want.<br />
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So this photo reminds me that things can be pretty, and pretty good, even if they aren't perfect. Which makes it perfect, in it's own way.<br />
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Photo: Statue outside Louvre Museum, Paris. Copyright Tracey Brower, 2009Trace Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139750882768740451noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5895998828556125168.post-53486298379164515502011-01-25T07:38:00.000-08:002011-01-25T07:38:16.889-08:00Photo of the Week: One Way? or Another?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVyLlNfJchk9f4Jwnfep28gu54MF1PP2gdMQO9ou4lrJvNlhX8FAwdaeueRafbm9P8kJZKC93xnW1BglsAvnikiapvZOOv25ez32FLdyjMi40alD5M5WxbJ6vTr3YIeNysFXUOdHjI530/s1600/IMG_3820.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVyLlNfJchk9f4Jwnfep28gu54MF1PP2gdMQO9ou4lrJvNlhX8FAwdaeueRafbm9P8kJZKC93xnW1BglsAvnikiapvZOOv25ez32FLdyjMi40alD5M5WxbJ6vTr3YIeNysFXUOdHjI530/s320/IMG_3820.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Photo above, from a street corner in Montreal, where I visited last fall. You cannot tell me there is only "one way" to love cheese.<br />
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I have a friend who is contemplating taking a full-time job right now, after two years or so of freelancing. She's done the pros and cons list, contemplated the positives (weekly paycheck! whooo) and the negatives (telling HR your grandmother died, again, to get a day off), done the pros and cons. It probably seems crazy, in these unstable economic times, to not leap on a permanent, full-time position like a lion on a wildebeest, pinning it to the ground and refusing to let go, but we come from a freelance tribe, and it's hard to give it up - the flexibility, the challenge, and the allure of possibility, that the next client or job will be the coolest, most lucrative project ever. I can see her on the balance beam now, trying to decide which way to tip, and I desperately want her to make the right decision - the one that makes everything come out right, in the end, like a perfectly wrapped up movie.<br />
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I thought of that, and of this picture, and how frustrating it is when it seems there is only "one way" to get to where you want to be. What do you keep, and what do you shed along the way? Time? Safety? Security? Control? I have the same issues she does - the constant concerns about money, the worry that you won't get paid for work you've already done, the thought that the boring but lucrative project will eliminate the awesome cheapie someone wants you to do. Or, worse, the dread that there will be nothing but boring cheapies.<br />
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I don't have a neat wrap up for this one, no finishing point that ties up the loose ends and rolls into the credits with cool music. I just wait and cross my fingers for her, and try not to wish in one direction or the other. She'll find her way.Trace Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139750882768740451noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5895998828556125168.post-58961899789509513852011-01-11T07:27:00.000-08:002011-01-11T07:27:26.651-08:00Photo of the Week: The Snowbound Edition<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij0KKuN5-0bKzoGY37pBrQCyY6Lh70aK14jmfvzzRsuUplcKOLIErBPs4CYWaeuJ_K8mXw3xWbXIrHLAos5CoRXXhrNfKgd18u1UNKjg92FlGMaHB-HvBrhz0_3ybcj3_Yq6MjgYcceyw/s1600/snowtires2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij0KKuN5-0bKzoGY37pBrQCyY6Lh70aK14jmfvzzRsuUplcKOLIErBPs4CYWaeuJ_K8mXw3xWbXIrHLAos5CoRXXhrNfKgd18u1UNKjg92FlGMaHB-HvBrhz0_3ybcj3_Yq6MjgYcceyw/s320/snowtires2.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>So if you have been hiding under a rock in an undisclosed tropical location, A) I hate you, and B) you may have missed the news that it's winter. You cannot miss it in Atlanta, which is currently paralyzed by 4 inches of snow and ice. It looks wonderful, pristine and fluffy, until you realize you are out of beer and the football game is on, and it takes an hour to go to the corner store a mile away.<br />
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Cars are skiing across the highway and people are sledding down the hills with broken down cardboard boxes as we take in the strangeness; not of snow (it usually snows here once or twice a year) but of snow that stays. Usually in Atlanta it snows about a quarter of an inch and then melts within 8 hours, but the friendly weatherman assures us that this may stick for a WEEK. He's enjoying his moment in the sun, I think - no pun intended - and is determined to stretch it out.<br />
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We went out for a walk yesterday and took some pictures just in case Friendly Weatherman is wrong, and I got this photo of a neighbor's yard. There's something very romantic about the magnolia tree covered in snow - it's my favorite tree, so very emblematic of the south, all iced tea and linen dresses and fanning yourself on the porch - so to see it dressed up in winter wear is always something of a surprise. The tire swing seems to long for winter to pass and these silly sleds and snowballs go away, so the children will come play on it again. Until then it whispers to the magnolia, and they wait patiently for spring.Trace Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139750882768740451noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5895998828556125168.post-2701048884979977392011-01-05T08:57:00.000-08:002011-01-05T08:57:51.794-08:00The Year in Travel<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg05GtQH70ij-DMQncaq7rv3JzcEsGP1xnt0N_dUss2AyMSwXV5H-_cnuIl4vwM9dzcxpGIxyulkMr7Np4KNFyEA-1bHdM8ZHUnCoulAFye1sHDBbTOqTEzCbEZzdITohLXG0_GavDqaPo/s1600/Greenland.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg05GtQH70ij-DMQncaq7rv3JzcEsGP1xnt0N_dUss2AyMSwXV5H-_cnuIl4vwM9dzcxpGIxyulkMr7Np4KNFyEA-1bHdM8ZHUnCoulAFye1sHDBbTOqTEzCbEZzdITohLXG0_GavDqaPo/s320/Greenland.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br />
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If you're on Facebook (ah the demon facebook, how I love yet hate you) you have probably seen that game "The Year in Status". It takes two status updates from each month of the previous year and makes them into a huge collage, and gives you a great snapshot of what was on your mind as the year went by. I'm proud to see that my Antione Dodson obsession popped up in multiple months.<br />
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<br />
I thought I'd do a similar snapshot of all my travel from 2010, to see how many of my travel goals I met and think about my fantasy trips going forward. In chronological order, then, I give you:<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">2010: On The Road.</span><br />
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January - Columbia and Hartsfield, South Carolina - February - West Palm Beach, Florida, and Jobos, Puerto Rico - March - nowhere, sadly - April - Franklin, Indiana, and Anderson, South Carolina - May - Flowery Branch, Georgia - June - stayed home - July - was supposed to go to Brazil, but wussed out - August - Halifax, Nova Scotia, and Montreal - September - still in Canada, plus somewhere in South Carolina AGAIN - October - London - November - Paris, Brussels, Oslo, and Stockholm (18 hours each) - December - Tampa, Florida (wanted to go to the Bahamas, but nooooo)<br />
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Not as much as I expected, actually, and not a patch on 2008, when I actually forgot where I lived at one point, but not to bad. It helps to bear in mind that I travel a lot for work, and so at least half the places listed were work trips - hence the London-Paris-Brussels-Amsterdam-Oslo-Stockholm throwdown that wound up the year, seven - no, six - cities in nine days. I now know what bands on tour feel like. And some of the Georgia travel was not very far, such as Flowery Branch, which is all of an hour from Atlanta, but was for work, and helped me go to a place called "Out of my Mind" for two weeks.<br />
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Pressing forward to 2011, here's the travel dream list:<br />
<br />
February: Puerto Rico, for our annual couple's week away<br />
March: Morrocco, a trip I've been trying to take for three years<br />
Sometime in the late spring: St. Lucia, just because I can<br />
September: India<br />
December: Bahamas or the AVI for christmas<br />
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In the same 12 months I have to: work, so as to PAY for all this; move, as my boyfriend is buying a house and I will be relocating there; go to NYC to see the Met for the first time in 10 years; go to Canton, Ohio, to see the football hall of fame (low priority) and go down to Tampa, Florida at least three times to see my folks, who live there, because I promised I would, and so that when I go to the Carribean for Christmas no one can complain. They'll complain anyway, but their arguments will be invalid. And ineffective.<br />
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Where are YOU planning to go in 2001?<br />
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By the way, the photo at top is of Greenland, taken as I flew home from the rock n roll Euro Tour in November. You can actually see the mountains poking thru the snow. So I guess I can claim to have been there, too?Trace Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139750882768740451noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5895998828556125168.post-79718340313540483652011-01-03T07:04:00.000-08:002011-01-03T07:04:19.352-08:00Photo of the Week, "Happy New Year!" edition<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGGxLtulvOveI7mJ3o7euUzIjjkpyes8OMVGw4m7lPKkO5f-A0N8-Ip2A74B-8boXlqVPZVn9kBOJjIhqIkTYO-qcTeB4KSp9T4BjwsuiKLl-BP-eDTumqpJoX_g0N_StAhIc3V9Ydhtw/s1600/IMG_3837.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGGxLtulvOveI7mJ3o7euUzIjjkpyes8OMVGw4m7lPKkO5f-A0N8-Ip2A74B-8boXlqVPZVn9kBOJjIhqIkTYO-qcTeB4KSp9T4BjwsuiKLl-BP-eDTumqpJoX_g0N_StAhIc3V9Ydhtw/s320/IMG_3837.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB_cTAfoezeaudFGMqpEi2BpZXEBCR2o1dz4V74Fm5JFsTyb8I9iZPHsr01XAhjiQ-SA_rjea2Iuy7_4wUSCGpqtbq8twZmV3V63wYurD-8hlqnzvnJ1cDg-U_X8kVd5IITlPavRrDjUw/s1600/IMG_3849.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB_cTAfoezeaudFGMqpEi2BpZXEBCR2o1dz4V74Fm5JFsTyb8I9iZPHsr01XAhjiQ-SA_rjea2Iuy7_4wUSCGpqtbq8twZmV3V63wYurD-8hlqnzvnJ1cDg-U_X8kVd5IITlPavRrDjUw/s320/IMG_3849.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Sending you off into your first workaday Monday of 2011 with some floral fireworks, courtesy of the Farmer's Market stalls in Montreal. Bright, colorful, and non-noisy, unlike real fireworks, which might upset some of the still-hung-over among us. Not that I'm judging, or looking at you, Pickles.<br />
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Happy 2011! In the words of Kito, from the epic - epic! Step up 3 in 3D, I say to you, don't just make it work - "Kick some ASS!"Trace Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139750882768740451noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5895998828556125168.post-46716612266058636042010-08-17T14:14:00.000-07:002010-08-17T14:14:05.481-07:00Photo of the Week: the Quick Like A Bunny Edition<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9wVUv05xOoMPMYjdcxmrd5D6GZb4m3YAt_xajJXMMJyelgR_ntuxu5ti7tErb3skarH0lFPvYoXTWAPXrxVz87utzSK1DLqPRbw_EnqqxwO5VegahJrQ1WWL8Lpp7-bBi5aI87c_xzDg/s1600/view+to+sea.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9wVUv05xOoMPMYjdcxmrd5D6GZb4m3YAt_xajJXMMJyelgR_ntuxu5ti7tErb3skarH0lFPvYoXTWAPXrxVz87utzSK1DLqPRbw_EnqqxwO5VegahJrQ1WWL8Lpp7-bBi5aI87c_xzDg/s320/view+to+sea.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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This is a short and sweet entry, as I am suddenly realizing that my upcoming trip to see friends in Halifax, Nova Scotia, is coming up in ten days and I have done exactly zero planning, and today I found out I am flying to Kansas City next Wednesday. Hope Delta doesn't lose my luggage this time.<br />
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Halifax looks fun, though, and will hopefully get me out of the godawful Georgia heat for a week. I'm ending up my trip in Montreal and flying back from there, so I'll get a nice cross section of Eastern Canadian-isms. (My flight <i>to</i> Halifax includes a hotly anticipated two-hour layover in Detroit, which is a cross-section I could do without.)<br />
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Photo! This is from Puerto Rico, the view north out of the El Yunque Rainforest (only rainforest that is part of the USA! Go see it!) down through the mist to the coast, which you can just see in the distance. If you are going to IslaVieques - and you should be, right now, and if I weren't going to Halifax I'd go with you - the entrance to the rain forest is on the right hand side of Highway 3, right before Luquillo. That's right, the only American rain forest has a drive-thru! Because that's how we roll. Literally in this case.<br />
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Go there. You'll thank me.Trace Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139750882768740451noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5895998828556125168.post-45689250661175775792010-08-10T12:21:00.000-07:002010-08-10T12:21:56.602-07:00Photo of the Week: the Chill Out, Already Edition<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifnZHJ56PRenUTRvloLh_0oms9BOkbodAjtKTJ_yW94VEv1es7ZuCoNIWAiwXZS2rz0bVh0xi2iPNXZFH5RBJrCWZrP-gjYLgdqSppm1NZeh59BKzaIRrtPExbBroerzQBm9xhP2Pf3sc/s1600/snow.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifnZHJ56PRenUTRvloLh_0oms9BOkbodAjtKTJ_yW94VEv1es7ZuCoNIWAiwXZS2rz0bVh0xi2iPNXZFH5RBJrCWZrP-gjYLgdqSppm1NZeh59BKzaIRrtPExbBroerzQBm9xhP2Pf3sc/s320/snow.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Whee! Hard to believe that a mere 5 months ago I was going out to my yard and marveling at everything being covered by snow and ice, like all the trees were being dipped in that jar that you made rock candy with when you were a kid. And that in 2 months it will be fall, and I will be able to go outside without an oxygen tank and/or a personal dehumidifier, and breathe the cool air of autumn. I love the south, but by god I am so glad that I live in the part that has seasons, as opposed to Florida, where I grew up. There they have two seasons: summer, and not summer. Summer is when you stick to the tarmac in the parking lot. Not Summer is... summer. But less sticky.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">A friend of mine sent me a photo of snow in Yosemite he took a few years back and said he was meditating on it to cool the brain. Here's my version (his is much more artistic and, also, in focus). With everyone going nutty in the heat, I figure we can all use it.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Meditate, be calm, chill. Repeat.</div>Trace Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139750882768740451noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5895998828556125168.post-64192202470230574242010-08-09T07:55:00.000-07:002010-08-09T07:55:32.276-07:00The Big Move<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc7xmZwfl6-53NnqKATbvsJ0uyVTNXLKwPHR0-F1mcRWaL8bTdA33GII_SsPEKMY06-LzqZgr-IpP4UgtXNEaWHVGELQnyjAWwrEwFkvt43Ocmvey8x7ItYRvk-GvFjU4FRsixacDI6m8/s1600/roses.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc7xmZwfl6-53NnqKATbvsJ0uyVTNXLKwPHR0-F1mcRWaL8bTdA33GII_SsPEKMY06-LzqZgr-IpP4UgtXNEaWHVGELQnyjAWwrEwFkvt43Ocmvey8x7ItYRvk-GvFjU4FRsixacDI6m8/s320/roses.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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So my boyfriend showed up last night with the news that his ongoing struggles with his bank to get pre-approved for a home loan have finally borne fruit, and he can start making offers on houses. This worries me.<br />
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A little backround: about a year ago, he became obsessed with the idea that he was going to buy one of the multitude of foreclosed houses in our city, so that we could live together, have more space, lower our bills, all that good stuff. (I was originally thinking that there would be a wedding ring somewhere in that equation as well, but I've since disabused myself of that notion.) He began working with a banker, we looked at a bunch of houses (from the outside), and he began thrashing thru the paperwork. Since it was his project, I've kind of stayed out of it. And that's where things have stood, for about a year.<br />
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Suddenly this mortgage-approval-thingy has been, well, approved, and suddenly the "moving into a new house" idea has become One Step More Real.<br />
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I am not at all sure I like this.<br />
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I like my house, though it's clearly too small for both of us. I like the location. I like the neighbors, except for the psychos who made me get rid of my chickens, and they have the sense to keep to themselves. I like that I'm five minutes from the farmer's market. I like the huge yard, even though I hardly use it, and I like the deep, arching trees that go back to the woods. I like my landlord, who lives in upstate New York and could care less if I keep bees and paint the house purple, as long as I don't burn it down.<br />
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This moving thing, I don't know. I don't think it will save money (I've moved lots of times, and I can painfully remember cleaning out my bank account to move into <i>this</i> house). I don't like the idea of adjusting my indoor-outdoor cat to a new (albeit safer) neighborhood. I don't like being outside the perimeter, like some suburban square. And I will lose my Mexican joint, which is an outpost of the local Los Bravos chain that I eat lunch at at least twice a week. Everyone needs a place like this - the one you go all the time, and they don't even bring you the menu any more, they just bring you your usual, and you can go in alone and not get the hairy eyeball for taking up a booth by yourself (in fact you have "your" booth) and you can go in looking nice or go all ratty in track pants, claiming you just came from the gym, when everyone knows you actually are coming off a three-day sudafed bender in Las Vegas and you need your fajitas NOW. I don't like the idea of disassembling my entire life, putting it in boxes, taking it to another place, and trying to reassemble it, only to find that there are bits that you are missing. And they were never things that fit in boxes to begin with.<br />
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Probably I am just saying that I don't like disruptions of my routine, and I should look forward to this exciting new household chapter, full of challenges and changes and positive things. A quieter street! An office that's not in the living room! Space for more shoes!<br />
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I don't like this... at all.<br />
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Rose photo above, from somewhere in Spain. I love the warmth of this photo and the slightly melancholy lean of the roses - are they waiting for a princess? - and I would tell you where I took it but I have gone off coca-cola again, to try to be healthy, and my brain is rewarding me by turning into a sponge, and I'm sucking down green tea in a desperate attempt to stay caffeinated and not sink into the throes of withdrawl. So you're out of luck. It's probably in Granada, though.Trace Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139750882768740451noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5895998828556125168.post-23019894677192179562010-07-19T11:48:00.000-07:002010-07-19T11:48:54.842-07:00Photo of the week - Sausalito Summer Night Edition<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguAS2MEltepI_kBb_rskkmjxxFAmXtB947Nkch8dWkQ91gXRDI6F5wJIdBCTOc2ppgLiYmbd5M5iqmqFad32Htf3jJ24O_Gy_0X6lmRhGgrDEWufHMPnBBeT-a489tZG3qsFRz3FzPtM8/s1600/fountain.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguAS2MEltepI_kBb_rskkmjxxFAmXtB947Nkch8dWkQ91gXRDI6F5wJIdBCTOc2ppgLiYmbd5M5iqmqFad32Htf3jJ24O_Gy_0X6lmRhGgrDEWufHMPnBBeT-a489tZG3qsFRz3FzPtM8/s320/fountain.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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Monday! Trying to get this post up before the summer heat utterly, competely drains me of motivation and leaves me on the couch gasping for air, with only the energy to munch TerraChips.<br />
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This is a room off of one of the main halls in the Alahambra, in Grenada, Spain. Apparently, where we would put a broom closet or a panel of electrical fuses, the Moors felt the need to put a handmade fountain in a tiny, ethereal space, with zilj tile and a view of the Andalusian countryside. Which we would do, too, if we didn't need a space to keep those brooms and fuses. This one is a little worse for wear, but I am putting it up because I am searching for a new studio space and the ones I have seen have been, shall we not say, diamonds in the rough. Man, are they rough. So I am using this photo to convince myself that with a little paint and curtaining and TLC, one of them can become the "room of one's own" that we're all supposed to have. Wish me luck!<br />
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And when you clean out your broom closet to make a niche like this one, bring me the broom. Boy, am I gonna need it.<br />
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Oh, and Sausalito Summer Nights is a totally cheesy 80's pop song that came out one summer when I was in, like , 7th grade. I love it, and you can listen to it here: <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qMAGI7zRqj8">Diesel</a> <br />
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Pogo!Trace Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139750882768740451noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5895998828556125168.post-8928692762098333242010-06-21T17:03:00.000-07:002010-06-21T17:03:19.924-07:00Photo of the week - now with more daylight!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwTNXw6b5GlaoS4rJvAaxxE_pCp-sxBYxc0Kn9Wd9IcT5ZNemh40qYQa_b_BIIN4iK9pX6wMotOHPU-Afo2UhxPBb_rLnCr4bi9NKvX0psDJQcmJjElw9tNW6J9nxOQEhShElvWxXbJsM/s1600/boat+in+tunnel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwTNXw6b5GlaoS4rJvAaxxE_pCp-sxBYxc0Kn9Wd9IcT5ZNemh40qYQa_b_BIIN4iK9pX6wMotOHPU-Afo2UhxPBb_rLnCr4bi9NKvX0psDJQcmJjElw9tNW6J9nxOQEhShElvWxXbJsM/s400/boat+in+tunnel.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>I had a different photo planned for today, a lovely Parisian sunset that was going to perfectly capture the longest day of the year. But when I went to get it out of my digital filing cabinet I found this one, and decided to run it instead.<br />
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These are the Bateau Mouches (I am totally murdering this spelling), the big, flat-bottomed boats that you can pick up at various places on the Seine and take a water-borne tour in. They pass the Louvre, the Musee de Orsay, and usually make a U-turn at the Eiffel Tower. Completely, utterly touristy, so of course I can't get enough of it. The night version of the tour is infinitely better than the day version, since the city is all lit up around you, glowing and romantic. The romantic part is wasted on me, since I always go to Paris alone, but the lighting - <i>c'est magnifique</i>.<br />
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This photo is taken just as we slip under one of the many bridges of Paris. You can see on this ride there aren't many people up top - it was March, I think, and totally freezing - but I once took the very latest ride of the night (yes, I've gone more than once) and was grateful that I was virtually the only person on board, since I was feeling a bit of alone-in-Paris melancholy - when at the last instant a herd of schoolkids got on board, at least 25 kids. They all poured noisily onto the upper deck and my first thought was, "AAAAARGH".<br />
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But you know what? they totally made the trip. They were French kids - so much for the theory that no French people ride the boats - and they were so innocently excited, scampering and laughing and going "whooooooo" every time we passed under a bridge, to test the acoustics - that it was like being on a field trip with the Harry Potter kids, a sensation amplified by the pre-teen Hermione look-alike sitting in front of me, whispering urgently in another kid's ear. I spent the whole ride giggling at (with) them, enjoying their antics, and when the boat nosed up to the dock I was actually sorry to see them go.<br />
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But I wasn't even concious of being alone anymore. And for that, tiny french children, I say <i>merci</i>.Trace Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139750882768740451noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5895998828556125168.post-13843089554049670842010-05-24T10:47:00.000-07:002010-05-24T10:47:30.326-07:00Photo of the week: the where have you been? edition<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHEPKMLkni920D_kDEvgN1RwGgJmnQyxyXQ8waqsZeK2GBhJ9Z_yI3IU9zcyFV_YLMFf9l2UARtug2WGz8MEpONJlZCB5gh2nPqUX_04rizENHRdkQ69vdhM9RYkxRr-6M91GHBE4wPNg/s1600/flowers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHEPKMLkni920D_kDEvgN1RwGgJmnQyxyXQ8waqsZeK2GBhJ9Z_yI3IU9zcyFV_YLMFf9l2UARtug2WGz8MEpONJlZCB5gh2nPqUX_04rizENHRdkQ69vdhM9RYkxRr-6M91GHBE4wPNg/s320/flowers.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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<br />
Hi, gang.<br />
<br />
It's been a minute.<br />
<br />
It's been a hell of a spring on the homestead. I started a new business which is eating me alive. I have people that actually rely on me to make <i>their</i> businesses work. Can I describe how terrifying that is, as a concept? My bees died in the last cold snap, about six weeks ago, and the bee box now sits silent and empty. My incipient trip to Brazil was canceled, smothered in the cradle by lack of funds (see starting a new business, above). And in a rank miscarriage of justice, the county code inspector came and gave us a citation for having chickens, and we had to give them away. No more fresh eggs, but more importantly no self-important chickies amusing me as they strut and fluster through the garden, scratching and pouncing.<br />
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It's enough to make a girl tired.<br />
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But! things are looking up. The wintry spring we've been having has finally turned into a gentle early summer, with lots of rain for the garden, which I got in by fits and starts in April. My tomatoes are growing like weeds. My boyfriend got me a library card, so I can stop draining my bank account at Amazon. And best of all, I found a beekeeper who will sell me new bees (it's late in the season, hence the difficulty) so I will have a functioning beehive once again. Oh, and Delta gave me my frequent flyer miles back. For a small fee.<br />
<br />
I was sitting with one of my clients for the new business the other day, and showing him the list of tasks I had assigned myself to do weekly for him. "I won't get to everything every week" I said, "but if we use this as a guideline, then we continue to lurch forward. It's all about progress."<br />
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And this morning I thought, while I was searching for a theme to this post, if that's not a metaphor for life, I don't know what is. Whether you are reinventing yourself, or writing a novel, or planting a garden, or raising a child, or, I don't know, carving the Mona Lisa out of yak butter, it's all about progress. Keep on keepin' on, as they say. And somehow, in fits and starts, you make progress. Stumble some, run some, but stretch towards the light.<br />
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Reeeeeeach......Trace Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139750882768740451noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5895998828556125168.post-81649456786173847342010-03-22T07:14:00.000-07:002010-03-22T07:14:44.471-07:00Photo of the week<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicaqFrlk2Q07KHwr79owO7G8QA3Z5il6ANMWGdS3hcJ46dZAbcCRDUCO64mhR6xqsc8sNlBqN1GBF8BYgLUUTvwHgaZUjrGY0cjrfKZR5_hXTR7MwBlCx4uTnz_d3w9AryLKBsOYhs6U4/s1600-h/glowing+louvre.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicaqFrlk2Q07KHwr79owO7G8QA3Z5il6ANMWGdS3hcJ46dZAbcCRDUCO64mhR6xqsc8sNlBqN1GBF8BYgLUUTvwHgaZUjrGY0cjrfKZR5_hXTR7MwBlCx4uTnz_d3w9AryLKBsOYhs6U4/s320/glowing+louvre.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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This picture is a little soft and fuzzy, due to ill-advised hand-holding, but then it's Monday and we probably ALL feel a little soft and fuzzy. I worked most of the weekend at my desk so I could use a little soft fuzziness right now.<br />
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Focus issues aside, I love the way the ceiling fixtures open up and draw you into the hallway. This is from a night tour of the Louvre (they are open until ten on Thursdays) and so all of the daylight that normally floods these halls is missing, leaving only the shadowy, gas-fixture light to illuminate the galleries. I like to think this is what it looked like in the past, with ladies in satin dresses drifting down the halls toward string music in the Apollo Room.<br />
<br />
Flattering light is key, even if it's only in your imagination...Trace Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139750882768740451noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5895998828556125168.post-65663849223943209722010-03-21T10:19:00.000-07:002010-03-21T10:19:02.801-07:00Book Review - "The Happiness Project"<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhliIIDCtWf6x9BgV6aGVzq0NVS3x2vRWhvY07qoWVASg29WmyzwKGYLieY_n9SNdOMYM5W_rfYT4-C57PoYz4Rxkj25qMCayvBPv0OoLz6Jv0a4BixtZ9f5tXmI1BmNfmFKxNn-6zGiK4/s1600-h/517Vks0KuhL._BO2,204,203,200_PIsitb-sticker-arrow-click,TopRight,35,-76_AA300_SH20_OU01_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhliIIDCtWf6x9BgV6aGVzq0NVS3x2vRWhvY07qoWVASg29WmyzwKGYLieY_n9SNdOMYM5W_rfYT4-C57PoYz4Rxkj25qMCayvBPv0OoLz6Jv0a4BixtZ9f5tXmI1BmNfmFKxNn-6zGiK4/s320/517Vks0KuhL._BO2,204,203,200_PIsitb-sticker-arrow-click,TopRight,35,-76_AA300_SH20_OU01_.jpg" /></a></div>There's some irony to me writing this review today, since I woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning and am being an impossible grouch. Then again, just thinking about this book makes me happier (at least a little) and if it can do it today, imagine what it would do on a day I'm <i>not</i> grumpy.<br />
<br />
Seriously, here's my advice to you - go out and get this book. Buy it, borrow it, check it out of the library, whatever you need to do - get it and read it. It's one of the best, most practical books I have read in a long time. Gretchen Rubin writes of realizing one day that she had a great, fortunate life, and felt the need to appreciate it more, enjoy herself and her family more, and just be more aware of how lucky she (and all of us, really) was. She set out to make a series of simple, non-earth-shaking changes, and in the process improves her life and that of everyone around her - no drama, no damage, no running off to Indonesia and living with a medicine man. It's the polar opposite of books like "Eat, Pray, Love" that imply the only way to improve your life is to burn it down and start over - not just thinking outside the box but trampling on it and throwing it's mangled remains in the trash. (In the interest of full disclosure, I hate those sort of books, and I spent most of "Eat, Pray, Love" wanting to slap Elizabeth Gilbert in the mouth.)<br />
<br />
Rubin breaks down her "Happiness Goals" into twelve sections, one for each month, taking inspiration from Benjamin Franklin's "List of Virtues", where he worked on one virtue a week for twelve weeks - and then goes from there. Vitality, Relationships, Work - I identified with all of them (well, except for the parenting one - no kids, just the cat) and found several useful pointers in each chapter.<br />
<br />
Even today, when I am at my curmudgeonly best, I can dredge up her advice and nudge myself into a better, if not Pollyanna-ish, state. Yes, I woke up at 6.30 am on Sunday because I have so much work to do (and am breaking one of my personal rules, to not work on Sunday). Yes, the winery event I wanted to go to was rained out. Yes, my boyfriend changed his oil in the carport and now there's ^*&%^% oil everywhere that I am going to have to mop up. Yes, the store was out of red snapper.<br />
<br />
But really, is it so bad? Take a deep breath and remember Gretchen's advice: Fight right (yes, the oil's a mess, but he also fixed my brakes last week. And don't drag his mother into it). Be flexible (no red snapper, but grouper - just as good) Give yourself credit - I just went out in the drizzle and cleaned the chicken coop, and just accomplishing that made me feel better. Crossing "write book review" off my list will improve my morale even more. And have some fun - maybe I can't go to the winery, but I can watch Pirates of the Caribbean again, and I can do it in my underwear. Can't do <i>that</i> at a winery. At least not until the second flight.Trace Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139750882768740451noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5895998828556125168.post-41224519450892319492010-03-19T15:19:00.000-07:002010-03-19T15:22:21.672-07:00The Notebook<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3pgCAFgJ1obDEmuqsFrDH35zS8vXBDiOa0kDbLCcYIv56s3vxFthpnsvEDEUIunlpUbsx87RwnB_ZPK4hmcaVPi5Degw2SpbqapGPzFFvyPrMTYtkaZ5YpQUsbW511KeG3ktzJS5sxAg/s1600-h/notebook.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3pgCAFgJ1obDEmuqsFrDH35zS8vXBDiOa0kDbLCcYIv56s3vxFthpnsvEDEUIunlpUbsx87RwnB_ZPK4hmcaVPi5Degw2SpbqapGPzFFvyPrMTYtkaZ5YpQUsbW511KeG3ktzJS5sxAg/s320/notebook.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<br />
This is not a story about the totally-cheesy-with-a-side-of-extra-cheese book by Nicholas Sparks, because although I am sure he is a very nice man and my mother loves all of his writing, his books make my head want to explode. This is a different story.<br />
<br />
You know when you do something, and <i>as you are doing i</i><i>t</i> you think, "mmm... this is a bad idea" and you do it anyway and it turns out licking the light socket <i>was</i> a bad idea, and you say (to yourself) "dumbass! I <i>told</i> you not to do that!"? This is that kind of story. Only without the hair styled by voltage. (I have, in fact, stuck a metal object into a light socket and your hair DOES stand up. But that's for another day.)<br />
<br />
Pictured above is my notebook. Or rather, one of my notebooks, because I go through them like crazy - I use them as a combination dayplanner/notetaker/recipetester/<br />
mileagerecord/gumwrapper/whatever-er, and if you ask anyone who knows me I am almost never without it. I take it to lunch, I take it on dates, I take it on vacation (even though I keep a detailed vacation journal), I sleep with it next to the bed in case I get a blinding insight in the middle of the night. I don't even like not knowing where it is. It's a college-ruled security blanket, and I always have 2-3 blank ones in the house, just in case I unexpectedly run out of pages. I pick them up whenever I see one with a design I like, even if I have like 5 already. I'm a little obsessed.<br />
<br />
And as you can see, I have a classic OCD approach to using them - things to do on the right, spontaneous notes on the left, subjects numbered in order of importance, stars by things, highlighter you get the picture I AM REALLY INTO MY NOTEBOOK.<br />
<br />
So of course, when I had an opportunity to put one down somewhere that I would be guaranteed to lose it, I did. Because that is sensible.<br />
<br />
I was in Belgium. Intentionally this time. I've been to Belgium once before, <i>un</i>intentionally, but even though that is one of my best travel stories ever, filed prominently under "disasters" I can never tell it here, to protect the innocent. So this is my second trip to Belgium and I was getting off of the Eurostar with my boss, and the clients, and about eleventy thousand pounds of photographic equipment. The Brussels Eurostar station has no luggage carts, in an apparent attempt to thin the human herd of baggage weaklings, and we had a lot of stuff. A lot and a half. And one notebook.<br />
<br />
One of us (I think it was the ever-amazing Brooke, but I really don't remember) found a station worker to take pity on us and they brought a rolling luggage container - essentially an eight-foot-high cage on wheels - and we loaded all eleventy thousand pounds of gear into the cage, and since I still had to carry couple of bags I tossed my notebook up on top of the cage. Why I didn't just stick it in the bag I was carrying I'll never know. And as I did so, I thought to myself, "<i>Don't leave that up there, dummy</i>."<br />
<br />
Which, of course, I did.<br />
<br />
And of course I realized it just late enough to ensure it was to late to go back and get it. Aaargh! All my notes. Schedules. Lists of blog posts that I wanted to work on (like that was gonna happen anyway, notebook or not). All enjoying an extended vacation in the Brussels train station. It's still there for all I know.<br />
<br />
And of course it was in the most gruellingly scheduled portion of the trip, where we were racing from location to location and I literally did not have five minutes to run into a drugstore and find a replacement. I had made, with rare foresight, extra copies of our schedule, and when I could no longer jam notes into the margins and had filled up the back, I started writing on napkins, newspapers, gum wrappers, whatever I could find that would accept ink - including at one point the palm of my hand. My boss noticed my notebook need and tried to help.<br />
<br />
"Do we need to stop somewhere and get you a notebook?"<br />
<br />
"No, I'm fine."<br />
<br />
"I know you like to have something to take notes in."<br />
<br />
"No, it's okay."<br />
<br />
"Because we can get you one. I'll give you some euros if you need it."<br />
<br />
"No, really, I'm fine. Are you done with that napkin?"<br />
<br />
So there I am, suffering from the notebook jones, hanging fire for <i>five whole days. </i>The last couple of days were in Amsterdam - my boss, in a display of generosity I can only categorize as awesome, let me stay behind after the shoot and flew home with all that gear alone - and in my wanderings I found a tourist store that sold notebooks. They had one with a cow on it that said, Amsterdam, and I grabbed it and ran to the counter squealing like a kid at Christmas and I took out my wallet and I was <i>out of euros</i>. I looked, stricken, at the girl behind the register, at the notebook, and then I stalked back to my hotel, notebookless, in the cold Dutch rain.<br />
<br />
I flew home the next day, still empty handed, a little piece of my soul still sitting on a luggage cart somewhere in Europe...<br />
<br />
I wonder if it misses me?Trace Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139750882768740451noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5895998828556125168.post-50194989288966859432010-03-19T12:06:00.000-07:002010-03-19T12:10:10.542-07:00The Friday Wrap-Up - March Madness Edition<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4ji4w5mOp7btsFPsYtmmywu-zDblw1eqr2l5AYz65U48l_0urYAoyM-85_7paXXyyLZZ6ZhaCrSCX3fJeW6AB9nE3FBmR4mD2ZBCpbzjgp8GesiRUa6poS8f2uKqMDBLcyVBhwQNfIO8/s1600-h/flowers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4ji4w5mOp7btsFPsYtmmywu-zDblw1eqr2l5AYz65U48l_0urYAoyM-85_7paXXyyLZZ6ZhaCrSCX3fJeW6AB9nE3FBmR4mD2ZBCpbzjgp8GesiRUa6poS8f2uKqMDBLcyVBhwQNfIO8/s320/flowers.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<br />
Is it Friday already? Gah. This week's story is still in the draft stages, so you'll have to wait til tomorrow for that, but in the meantime here's some odds n' ends for the past week:<br />
<br />
- Is that picture above not the worst photo ever? Admit it, you think that's a paparazzi outtake, and Lindsay Lohan is behind that bush somewhere. But no. That, my friends, is a PHOTO OF HOPE. Because it's a photo of the first bloom on the Bradford pear trees, which I saw last night on my way home from seeing <i>Shane</i> at the Plaza Theatre. And when the pear trees bloom, spring is officially on the way - groundhog or not. So suck it, Winter!<br />
<br />
- and in an additional note, that kid in <i>Shane</i>? Most annoying child actor ever.<br />
<br />
- Just finished reading "Your New Sailboat - Choosing it, Using it" by the excellent and prone-to-rhyming editors of Chapman Piloting, and I can tell you what I've learned: I'm <i>never</i> buying a sailboat. I would be better off calling up Richard Branson and negotiating for a used spaceship.<br />
<br />
- My friend Vere and I celebrated St. Patrick's Day in the traditional fashion, eating dinner in a Cuban restaurant. What? Mojitos are green.<br />
<br />
- My boyfriend announced he wants us to take fencing lessons. He was an all-state fencer in high school. Why do I feel this will end badly?<br />
<br />
- And looking ahead to summer vacation (in case I <i>don't</i> get stabbed) I just cashed in all of my frequent flyer miles and am going on an "adventure" in July. I always think of them as "adventures", rather than "vacations", because a "vacation" implies you will come home not racked with parasites or bitten by a poisonous snake. And why court disappointment? Nobody was more shocked than me when Delta actually agreed to accept their own frequent flyer miles, but apparently it's an early Easter miracle. I'll pony up more details as we get closer, but if you want to play pin-the-tail-on-the-globe, here's your first hint: I'm going to a country with a very large jungle in it, that's named after an online bookstore.<br />
<br />
Or is it the other way around?Trace Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139750882768740451noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5895998828556125168.post-56774066853267480012010-03-16T07:12:00.000-07:002010-03-16T07:12:25.270-07:00Photo of the week<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf3uRgOZmdV1bAkRRKY-nIIaAzSLOujsoc52O2F8gZEEpjtgwlr_aNSlVf3ude7PTaAKdGmDX0mMNkvnOXjFl1lSlEQEBkdQAoq6BbCWB0xZnCnNXvq4WkRRYGjU2awA1luuQvaHs75ms/s1600-h/jobos+surfer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf3uRgOZmdV1bAkRRKY-nIIaAzSLOujsoc52O2F8gZEEpjtgwlr_aNSlVf3ude7PTaAKdGmDX0mMNkvnOXjFl1lSlEQEBkdQAoq6BbCWB0xZnCnNXvq4WkRRYGjU2awA1luuQvaHs75ms/s320/jobos+surfer.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<br />
Since it's a beautiful, sunny day in Atlanta (though chilly) I thought I would share this sunny beach photo from my recent trip to Puerto Rico. We saw this surfer on his way out to the point while we were bobbing contentedly in the water for our post-breakfast swim, and I particularly noticed him because - honestly - he had <i>really</i> pretty hair. Better than mine by far.<br />
<br />
A few hours later I saw him on the way back and got this image of him framed by the waves. I bet he had fun. Even if his hair is now messy.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Go out there and get messy, people!Trace Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139750882768740451noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5895998828556125168.post-43320384329884607252010-03-11T05:54:00.000-08:002010-03-11T05:54:05.659-08:00And the Winner is....<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK80uksNAaf8jWcJjFuCVxgi6ebH9vHGzF3ArioB94jYKZ3Cz6SMrDXYSxMsjdHjAcVUVtqa3HZZcti2dk-fBkWa7IA3d3kQQlB7rsWkhkkJhOPVmnVcAwgHU5Ox7Aw4QEKMp3UIDYM2Y/s1600-h/51hTfqTXKFL._BO2,204,203,200_PIsitb-sticker-arrow-click,TopRight,35,-76_AA300_SH20_OU01_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK80uksNAaf8jWcJjFuCVxgi6ebH9vHGzF3ArioB94jYKZ3Cz6SMrDXYSxMsjdHjAcVUVtqa3HZZcti2dk-fBkWa7IA3d3kQQlB7rsWkhkkJhOPVmnVcAwgHU5Ox7Aw4QEKMp3UIDYM2Y/s320/51hTfqTXKFL._BO2,204,203,200_PIsitb-sticker-arrow-click,TopRight,35,-76_AA300_SH20_OU01_.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<br />
I could beat this Oscar meme to death all WEEK. And I didn't even watch the show! Which I only regret because I missed the Crazy-Purple-Kanye-Lady. Lord, please let me be that wacky when I grow up.<br />
<br />
Crazy-Purple-Kanye-Lady aside, you will remember that a few weeks ago I posted the First Ever Constant Holiday Give-away! I'm really into caps this morning. I got caught up in work, and in planning (and then taking) my Puerto Rico trip, so I haven't had a chance to announce my winners yet. So today's the day!<br />
<br />
And yes, I did say WINNERS. In an atypical spasm of generosity, I decided to give both my copies of "How To Travel Anywhere" away (admittedly after I had read one of them. But they are used books so no one will ever know.), and randomly selected two of my reader comments, who obligingly sent in an account of their favorite vacations.<br />
<br />
Drum roll, please....<br />
<br />
K. Smith and P. Foster! Come on down and accept your prize! Or rather, wait feverishly by your mailbox. K sent in an account of a family trip with her mom and grandma to Chattanooga Tennessee, and P sent in this haiku-like description:<br />
<br />
"Scotland, 2002.<br />
What's a little freezing rain when<br />
you're in a real castle?"<br />
<br />
My thoughts exactly. I will be contacting these fine folks for your addresses and sending prizes out post-haste. BTW K is also the author of the excellent Amira blog, which I have linked to at the bottom of this page. You should check her out.<br />
<br />
Champagne all around! We will have another contest soon, as this was fun and I have WAY to many books in my house.Trace Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139750882768740451noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5895998828556125168.post-35384679393006788102010-03-09T08:19:00.000-08:002010-03-09T08:38:23.851-08:00And the award for Friday Wrap up goes to... Tuesday<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZaSpsk6iPxrFpvdfsUx0oVCTu100qK6Adyny5QRVqBJGBCM8amrE4ciiPl6BvUs-yrbvzwFBCF1HbfCDh9MegxG48bvEytAW3y5KqMcwLsxc0pHaAS7bALF1AyDW9ZsnsILIRCSDqNK8/s1600-h/korean+bbq.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZaSpsk6iPxrFpvdfsUx0oVCTu100qK6Adyny5QRVqBJGBCM8amrE4ciiPl6BvUs-yrbvzwFBCF1HbfCDh9MegxG48bvEytAW3y5KqMcwLsxc0pHaAS7bALF1AyDW9ZsnsILIRCSDqNK8/s400/korean+bbq.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446673868383756642" /></a><br />Yeah, I know. Late again. I'd like to say that I'm doing constructive things, but mostly I'm eating and getting sand out of my luggage, so don't waste that sympathy. Save it for poor James Cameron. Heh. <br /><br />To the (late) Friday wrap up!<br /><br />- we returned from our trip to Puerto Rico in one piece, and with a minimum of awkardly located sunburns, a key metric in how much you enjoy your vacation, I think<br /><br />- I met an amazing photographer, who I am hoping to do lots of work with in the future, named Pat McDonnell, You should check him out here: www.medicinebleu.com<br /><br />- my friend Amy and I went to Hae Doon Wae Korean bbq last week, and it was scrumptious. I have this game I play where I go to a different foreign food joint each week, partially to expand my palate and partially to annoy my boyfriend. The less recognizable the food the happier I am (though I passed on the barbequed tripe). Pictured above, the wreckage of our table.<br /><br />- I also went to the Bookstore in Atlanta and had Duck Breast with mushroom risotto, which was so good I may have to let Jason, my buddy who recommended both the restaurant and the dish, date my sister. Her husband may mind, though. Jason, you can date my mom.<br /><br />- Katheryn Bigelow! You go girl. Anyone who gives us Bodi deserves an Oscar.<br /><br />- Please, PLEASE go to http://dianevadino.tumblr.com/ , website of the excellent writer Diane Vadino, who is Bunnyshop, one of my favorite travel and fashion blogs. She has audio excerpts from her last book, Smart Girls Like Me, up now, and is putting up excerpts of what looks to be a hilarious book about her Mongolian adventure, which I am still jealous off. Check it out.<br /><br />- I just found out how to add multiple photos to my blog. Watch out, world.Trace Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139750882768740451noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5895998828556125168.post-61053277571014750732010-03-09T08:05:00.001-08:002010-03-09T08:10:17.930-08:00And we're back!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMb1DuuiTTfOT-4NAqIs_uVeoYh6N3GEdVnPE02HMxtYUGXtdZ1WhdVqxx2w1X1g01ENfIp-cpI0cOAs9wQ_fnaCio9ePOGPLI0crZmuzmbtVNm-TNpvT-DgjK-hWXgh_PYQcW0KtTcys/s1600-h/pelican.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMb1DuuiTTfOT-4NAqIs_uVeoYh6N3GEdVnPE02HMxtYUGXtdZ1WhdVqxx2w1X1g01ENfIp-cpI0cOAs9wQ_fnaCio9ePOGPLI0crZmuzmbtVNm-TNpvT-DgjK-hWXgh_PYQcW0KtTcys/s400/pelican.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446667117345881234" /></a><br />Back from an excellent week in Puerto Rico - actually I've been back for a week, but laziness and procrastination is how I roll. So there. Above, view from my apartment in Jobos, on the northwest coast of the main island, complete with point break and surfers - in honor of Katheryn Bigelow's finest film, Point Break. You go, girl. Enjoy that Oscar.<br /><br />Lots to come this week so stay tuned! And now we are done with the silly TV references.Trace Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139750882768740451noreply@blogger.com0